


i cheated my way through pre-cal

by whataboutpierre (sunflowerwithfeelings)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Grantaire is good and smart and i love him, M/M, Modern Era, Teacher/Teacher, so does Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwithfeelings/pseuds/whataboutpierre
Summary: The announcements came on, something he never bothered to listen to, and his students still talked amongst themselves. However, some tidbit of information the principal had said snuck into his ear.He listened intently, although not appearing that way. He weaved his way out of his students conversations and focused on the principal and what she was saying. Grantaire giggled to himself.How amusing.





	i cheated my way through pre-cal

**Author's Note:**

> #justice4R jk but yall, like, let him be smart! I've read so many high school au's ((that are great)) and he's failing all his classes ((which doesnt really prove lack of intelligence)) but then he's being tutored by someone because he doesnt get the concepts. as great as that is for a plot, i just feel like it takes something away from his character. idk this has been on my mind recently. enjoy!

Grantaire had found himself in a teacher clique from the beginning of the school year, which was odd considering at his last school, he stayed mostly reserved in terms of interacting with co-workers. Éponine, the Spanish teacher at Jean-Jaques High School, had asked him to teach  there since the old art teacher had quit right before the school year and they happen to be friends, her knowing full well he hated his last school. Grantaire accepted and was then introduced to a wide variation of people, ranging from an awfully dramatic theater teacher named Courfeyrac, to a quiet and reserved health teacher named Joly. However, the one he truly admired was one political science teacher named Enjolras.  
  
At first, Grantaire was too busy to actually speak to the political science teacher (maybe a bit self-conscious too), as his first couple of days at the school were hectic and full of jealous students, upset at their former teacher’s leave. But one night, as he was staying late to pack away his art supplies, he saw the latter walking alone in a darkened hallway. Although hardly able to see, Enjolras’ hair glowed like the sun as he strode down the hall. A halo could’ve appeared on his head and Grantaire would not have known the difference. Thus the pet name ‘Apollo’ was born and Enjolras found himself oddly entranced by the new art teacher. They made plans for coffee dates on Friday afternoons.  
  
That was six months ago.  
  
Now it was almost Spring Break, the stress of finals and AP exams waiting like the calm before the storm.  
  
Grantaire was in his class, students around him chattering away about whatever teenagers talk about, covered in varying substances as he sat, sketching out the lines of a hand in black paint at his desk. The announcements came on, something he never bothered to listen to, and his students still talked amongst themselves. However, some tidbit of information the principal had said snuck into his ear.  
  
He listened intently, although not appearing that way. He weaved his way out of his students conversations and focused on the principal and what she was saying. Grantaire giggled to himself.  
  
How amusing.

* * *

  
“Are you going to try and solve it Combeferre?” Joly asked as the teachers convened in the lounge of the school. It was after school on a Thursday, the coffee pot still warm from when Grantaire made himself a cup before the meeting.    
  
“I’m going to try, yes. Although I don’t know why it’s happening. Our school board hardly has money to buy my AP Chemistry class enough supplies and yet they will pay to fly out two people to Paris? On what money?” He said.

  
“Enough government conspiracy. What I want to know is who you’ll be taking with you.” Courfeyrac shot from the other side of the room, throwing a hot pink feather boa across his side and crossing his legs. No one questions what he comes dressed in anymore.  
  
“Let’s focus on if I can do it or not, before promising any vacations.” Combeferre said.  
  
“I think all of us should try, yanno?” Cosette, the French teacher, nodded her head at the group as she looked up from her phone. “We all took algebra and calculus when we were in high school.”  
  
“We’re talking quantum mechanics Cosette, not pythagorean theorem.” Bahorel chuckled, his coach's whistle bouncing on his chest. “Plus it wouldn’t be fair. I’m convinced Grantaire has never taken a math class in his life!”  
  
Everyone in the room laughed, including Grantaire who nodded his head and looked at Enjolras, who seemed to be a little uneasy at the comment.  
  
“It’s true!” Grantaire said as he looked at Enjolras reassuringly. “May have cheated my way through pre-cal.”  
  
Everyone laughed again at the art teacher, Grantaire and Enjolras now both smiling in the scandal. Jehan spoke up again and the room grew quiet in respect for the Literature teacher.

  
“Obviously we should let the physics students have a go at the problem first. That wouldn’t be fair if we tried before letting them.”  
  
Combeferre chuckled to himself, catching everyone’s eye. Grantaire doing the same but gathering no attention to himself.

* * *

  
The next day, every physics student gathered into the cafeteria as the principal wheeled out a giant white board containing the mystery problem. One of the AP physics teachers making sure to get a close look at it.  
  
The Fine Arts hall was right next to the cafeteria, all Grantaire had to do was peer out of his window and see the scribbling of pencils.  
  
They tried to whole class period.  
  
Nothing.  
  
The next day, many others retried but still were left at dead ends. During the last passing period, Grantaire caught Combeferre sneaking off into the cafeteria, perhaps to try and solve it himself. He walked out fifteen minutes later, appearing to no avail.

* * *

  
“Combeferre said he’s never seen anything like it before, must be extremely difficult.” Enjolras said as he sipped a cup of coffee.  
  
Grantaire huffed as if to chuckle, “chemistry isn’t quantum mechanics.”  
  
“I know,” Enjolras smiled and extended his arm, running his thumb over Grantaire’s hand. His hands were soft.  
  
Grantaire flopped his hand over so the two could hold each other across a table. The glaze on the mahogany felt cold to the touch.  
  
“The most amusing thing to see is their faces. They’ll think they have it and then they walk out of the cafeteria in utter despair.” Grantaire’s voice grew posh laced with heavy sarcasm, “quite the spectacle!”  
  
He sipped his coffee as Enjolras rolled his eyes and squeezed his hand, a sweet smile drawing at his lips.

* * *

  
The days passed bi; the whiteboard remaining empty other than the seemingly undoable problem. Spring Break loomed closer, the deadline for the prize trip closing Wednesday of the next week.  
  
It was Thursday again. Grantaire knew it was because it was the one day a week when he saw other teachers besides the music teacher or one of the band coaches.  
  
He walked into the room and heard that the meeting had started without him, which wasn’t new. As fads come and go, the new hot topic on everyone’s mind was the problem the school board had prompted.  
  
“I mean, I just don’t get it. I’ve tried for at least a week now and I can’t get it. Every time I think I’m going somewhere, I’m not! This is outrageous.” Combeferre shook his head.  
  
“Well they would’ve given such an extravagant prize if it was easy,” Éponine snorted.  
  
Courfeyrac, who was now wearing a red clown nose and thick rimmed glasses, pointed to her and nasally said, “exactly.”  
  
The teachers babbled on for another hour, the topic gradually moving onto something else.

 

The meeting had come to a close and the teachers walked back to their classrooms, Enjolras knocking on Grantaire’s door after he had graded and logged in assignments his students had done. Grantaire smiled and invited him inside. He had been painting away at his most recent work; Grantaire setting down his pallet as Enjolras drew closer.  
  
“Working?” He asked.  
  
“Something like it.” Grantaire reached around to a stack of artwork clearly done by students. “I’ve been procrastinating these for a while.”  
  
“Can’t you grade them quickly?” Enjolras asked as he half sat on Grantaire’s large desk.  
  
“Do you grade your tests quickly?” Grantaire said with a snarky smirk.  
  
Enjolras nodded his head, “yes actually. They use scantrons so I don’t have to grade by hand.”  
  
Grantaire shuffled through the stack until he came across one done in half crayon, messily colored in with markers. “I can’t exactly use those,” he said as he showed it to Enjolras, who scrunched his nose at the sight.  
  
“Alright,” Enjolras hopped off Grantaire’s desk and walked around to get closer to him. “I’m gonna head out for the night. Text me when you leave.”  
  
Enjolras bent down to steal a kiss from Grantaire. It was short and sweet but he loved it nonetheless. Before Enjolras could leave, Grantaire grabbed his hand.  
  
“Before you go, can I quickly ask something of you?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
Grantaire’s palms grew slightly sweaty, although this shouldn’t bother him. Should it?  
  
“Can you model for me?” Grantaire asked.  
  
Enjolras cocked his brow and looked questioningly at Grantaire. “Why?”  
  
“Because,” Grantaire held Enjolras’ hand and ran his thumb over his light brown knuckles. “You have the loveliest shade of skin and I have no other person to paint.”  
  
Enjolras snorted and nodded his head. “Only for you.”

Grantaire took reference pictures, mostly of Enjolras’ hands and neck in different positions and angles. After he got all he needed, he let Enjolras go, kissing him goodbye on the way out of his classroom. Grantaire looked at the stack of artwork, already knowing that he’d graded them a long time ago. He felt a little guilty for lying to Enjolras about that, but Grantaire had other interests in mind.

Checking the hallway and making sure no one was there, Grantaire snuck into the cafeteria, the lights all off. The janitor had left, Grantaire had seen him walking down the hall so he had a little bit of time. 

“Let’s see what the fuss is about,” He said to himself.

He dug out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it onto the large whiteboard. His eyes floated across the black dry-erase markings.

 

“Oh.”

  


* * *

 

 

Enjolras walked into the school building early as he usually does, stopping in at the front office to check his teacher's mailbox before heading up the stairs to his classroom. As he was turning to leave, the school janitor caught him.

“Excuse me Mr. Enjolras. You’re friends with Mr. Combeferre right?” 

Enjolras nodded his head, “yes, why?”

“I think he may have solved the problem! I’ve seen him in the cafeteria all the time and when I came into work today, the problem was solved.” The janitor had a happy expression on his face.

Enjolras was initially excited for his friend, then confused. “That doesn’t make sense. Combeferre left before me yesterday.”

The janitor and Enjolras stood confused until the janitor offered the solution of checking the video from last night. Enjolras agreed and followed him into a room with tv’s, live footage of the school already playing. The janitor rewound the video to around 6:30 yesterday and both saw a figure, indeed, solving the problem on the board with a green dry-erase marker and yellow sticky notes. Who it was was hard to see, as the light was shown on the board and not the person. However, when they turned around after they’d finished, the screen of the phone illuminated their face.

Enjolras gasped.

 

“ _Grantaire?_ ”

 

* * *

 

There was a knock on Grantaire’s door after school had ended, he turned around to see Enjolras walking into his classroom.

“Enj! I have a surprise for you,” Grantaire said as he bent down and picked up a canvas that he’d clearly been recently working on, as his sleeves and arms were paint stained.

Before Enjolras could get a word out, Grantaire had set in front of him a marvelous painting of Enjolras, his hand extending outwards as he floated in the sky like a sun god. _Apollo._

“Grantaire-“

“Do you like it?” Grantaire asked, his eyes darting back and forth between Enjolras and the canvas.

“R, I love it but-“

“I spent all last night doing it. I’ve been in such an art block recently that-“

“Grantaire,” Enjolras stepped forward and put his hand on Grantaire’s. “I know that you solved the quantum mechanics problem.”

Grantaire froze, then grew confused.

“Me and the janitor looked at the video footage from last night. He originally thought Combeferre had done it. I had no idea you knew how to do that.” Enjolras caught Grantaire’s eye and he sighed.

Grantaire set the canvas down and sat in his chair. “I got my Masters degree in Quantum Mechanics and started working with condensed matter in a lab for a while. But I got bored of it, staying in the lab all the time.”

“So you became an art teacher?” Enjolras asked.

“Yeah, I just wanted the opposite of what I was doing.” Grantaire explained.

Enjolras nodded, “I understand. But you need to tell the school board that you did it.” 

Grantaire wrinkled his face, “why?”

“Because it’s rightfully yours!” Enjolras walked around the table and knelt in front of Grantaire. He took his hands in his and looked up at Grantaire. “The janitor and I wheeled the whiteboard and your little sticky notes in the back closet where he keeps his cleaning equipment. Nobody except us know you did it.”

Grantaire shook his head, “Enjolras I-“

“Just think about it. You and I, on a trip to Paris for Spring Break. The city of love.” Enjolras batted his eyelashes at Grantaire, looking at him with soft blue eyes.

Grantaire sighed. “We could never afford it on a teacher’s salary anyway. I’ll tell them.” 

Enjolras smiled and grabbed Grantaire’s face, kissing him gently. His warm lips tasted like coffee and cherries. Something to make Grantaire melt.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [here](http://queersunflowers.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
